The Wind's Song
by DreamingWish
Summary: Many centuries after death, one lady wanders the world in search of something she lost. Soon she will find it, but her fate made strange plans for her memories.


One by one the petals fell to the ground. I reached out my hand and felt the wind slip between my fingers but the day-old blossoms were dancing beyond my reach. I could not catch what was so free.

But why? Every time I close my eyes I see red-stained wind flow past my face and feel a pain in my heart. But it is not physical. It feels like sorrow, but at the same time, all the happiness in the world. I hated that feeling, but always always yearned for it again and again.

I breathed in and exhaled in a cloudy puff. The white snowflakes stuck to my clothes, my hair, my eyelashes. I blinked and watched as they melted against my body heat. The clear crystals spiraled, competing against each other.

I coughed a little as the dust flew up into my nose when I pushed open the door to an old antique shop. I peered in cautiously before moving forward, closing the door behind me. I looked about once again, fascinated by the artifacts precariously stacked together in the gloomy space.

"Old man," I called out softly as I walked between an intriguing boomerang-like item and a golden staff, the colour now quite faded and flaky. I turned a corner and bumped into the feet of the store-owner stretched out in front of him as he sat on a rickety rocking chair, an old book placed on his head. He reached up and pushed it off his face and rubbed his nose. The book landed with a thud and generated a small storm of dust that eventually settled.

"I'm not _that_ old," he muttered.

"Uh-huh," I agreed sarcastically. "Anything new?" I asked, my eyes anticipating his answer.

He sighed and muttered, "So impatient."

I glared at him and he blinked calmly. "There's a nice hairpin," he advertised. "Blue, red," he shrugged. I made a face but asked to see it. He gestured for me to follow him and he led me to a shelf near the front.

"Here," he pointed at a box.

I glanced at him before opening it. There I found a beautiful ornament atop a long, slender pin. The adornment was a blue sphere and as it caught the light the red butterflies painted on its surface seemed to dance and flap their wings. The orb was nestled snuggly in a bed of purple velvet.

"It was in surprisingly good condition," the keeper informed me. "What do you think?"

"Is it fragile? Can I touch it?"

"It's fine, go ahead," he assured. "Though you might…never mind."

He held the box and pushed it towards me. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the stem of the hairpin, easing it out of its plush casing. I contemplated for a moment before saying, "It's—," I gasped, hastily dropping the relic.

"Watch it!" the owner cried.

"Ugh," I muttered and put my head in my hands, "No...I can't—"

"What's wrong, girl?" he asked, grabbing my shoulder to keep me from falling.

I shook my head sharply and sank down to my knees anyway before sitting down on the dusty, stone floor. Visions flashed by in my mind: a snowy mountain, red flowers growing on a frozen landscape, flashes of metal circled around like a dancing snake…it was so cold.

I heard a voice calling me from far away, "Wake up!" the old guy yelled. My eyes slowly adjusted and focused on his face.

"I—," I said before my voice cracked. I coughed and tried again, "I'm fine." I blinked quickly to rid myself of the feeling of sorrow that engulfed my heart. I shook my head at the hairpin. "I can't have it."

He nodded and helped me up.

"Anything else?" I asked him.

He hesitated before deciding. "I'll get it." He came back with a tiny paper envelope. "These are in good condition as well."

He opened the package and took out a pair of emerald-coloured earrings. Both had five jade spheres, each smaller than the other as they neared the tassel at the bottom. The dark green feather twirled in the gentle breeze as the jade glittered in the semi-dim room. I was fascinated by the way they moved in the wind, seeming to float upon a soft cloud. I reach out to touch them and was captured by the memories. My eyes closed and I saw a field of white, this time different from the snow I saw mere moments before. There was a circle of red around me, staining the delicate blossoms. There was pain in my chest and I felt blood seep between my fingers. My sight glazed over and I fell backward. "Will I die all alone then?" I thought, "Is this the end?" I glanced up to see a shadow before me illuminated by the sun, but I could see nothing except for the glowing honey-golden eyes that stared at me. There was a twinge of sorrow before they returned to their blank state. I felt content despite the dull burning in my heart.

"_At least I got to see you one last time_."

Before I hit the dewy carpet I pulled off both earrings and threw them at the figure. I never saw where they landed or if they were caught by the hand that seemed to hesitantly reach out to me. I closed my eyes to the world and turned to dust, drifting through the skies.

_I am the wind. The free wind._

I gasped and opened my eyes. I saw the old man's face slowly come into focus.

"Was this one better or worse?" he asked. I looked at him, confused. "You were smiling and crying at the same time," he explained. I reached my hand up to my face and felt the wet tracks my tears had left flowing down my cheeks. I wiped them away before telling him, "I want them."

He looked worried but acquiesced and gave me the package. I took them and walked toward the door.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked. I nodded without looking and opened the door to a blur of snow.

"Hey, you have to pay me!" the man shouted.

I turned and smiled at him. I shook my head and said, "No, I don't."

"What?" he asked, exasperated at my tone.

"They're mine," I replied as I took them out and put them on my ears. I smiled again and walked out the door.

"They were always mine," I whispered into the wind as I felt the feathery tassels brush against my neck. I turned my face up to the sky and felt the wind flow through my hair, ruffling the white feathers on my own hairpiece.

This is who I want to be. No. This is who I am already.

I am the wind.

And I forever will be.


End file.
